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Tuesday, October 11, 2011

*Here is a snippet of my current WIP. I'm not setting the scene. Hope you can figure it out your own self!*

Sun seeped in through the window. Memory and dream mingled, leaving Malcolm unsure if the night of debauchary that flashed through his mind was real or...

Her mouth pressed to his. Sliding down, teeth scraping against his chest, his stomach, his...

Her body, hard and angular, hardly a woman's body at all. But all woman.

Strong limbs grabbing, pulling him in.

Sweet. Desperate. Raunchy. He was deeply and irretrievably in love.

She snored. He loved that too.

Hunger drove his eyes open. Hunger, but not a black hole of emptiness. Just regular, run of the mill, walked 5 miles, fought or ran from a handful of monsters then got his brains fucked out desperation for a Grand Slam.

She had a dorm fridge and a hot plate, but no food. He could go get food, but not naked. My suit. My beautiful fucking suit. No amount of peroxide was going to get out the blackened blood that crusted those lapels. Melancholy passed like a summer cloud and rolled away. How could he feel bad when a beautiful future laid ahead? This angel of the morning, this sexual dynamo, this queen of demon killers-- she changed everything.

In a tangle of mis-matched sweaty sheets and yellowed caseless pillows she woke, a second dawn. She scrubbed the sleep out of her big brown eyes and yawned. And blinked. And stared.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Not what he hoped for. But since he didn't know her name, there was no room to judge.

"Malcolm. We killed monsters and fucked last night."

"Huh. You'd think I'd remember a thing like that." She threw her legs over the edge of mattress and padded to the corner. Pulling a large shower curtain, she disappeared.

This was not how the first morning with the love of his life was supposed to go.

She came back out, biting her toothbrush, still gloriously naked. "Monsters."

"Yes. Animas. Dead bodies with their faces pulled off, possessed by some sort of demony thing."

"Demony thing? You fight these anime things often?"

"Animas. And no, I'd never seen them before. Last night just sorta happened." He tried to play it cool. Not easy when when you are naked, have dried blood in all your creases and, well... He looked down at his pale, skinny body, His hand dropping over his belly in a vain attempt to hide the paler than pale web of scars that lived there.

"So, you just picked the name Animas?" Her eyes had a flicker of playful doubt.

"Before." Suddenly, he felt a little dumb. Did he have to be naked right now?

She wandered over to a carelessly neat pile of antique suitcases in the corner. She flipped open the top one.

"And then I had sex with you." She ran her hands over a tidy row of thongs and pulled one out. She flipped open a cigar box and found it empty. "And I didn't even charge you."

"Um, no." He'd pay any amount of money for a pair of underwear. Or a loin cloth. Or even a pair of the tiny panties that she pulled up those long legs.

Much to his dismay, she kept putting on clothes. A sports bra. A pair of tan tropical weight wool trousers. A guinea tee. A beautiful set of suspenders and vest that didn't match the pants, but coordinated perfectly. "That is a really nice suit."

"Great. I freebie fucked a gay guy." She headed back behind the curtain. When she reemerged, her short hair slicked back in a tight pompadour, she looked really … masculine.

"I'm not...you're not..."

"Oh, you one hundred percent surely are, and so am I. Not a very good one, as evidenced by my squatter status and bringing home freebies." She swept her hand around the room in a grand gesture that landed on me. She actually seemed more disappointed by the sight of him than the whole of her dilapidated apartment. She unstacked the luggage and popped it open.

"Here. This is too big for me anyway." She tossed his a worsted wool pair of trousers and a shirt.

Behind the curtain the makeshift bathroom was mostly just broken pipe sticking out of the ceiling, feeding into a zinc tub. Malcolm had no idea how to turn the water on, so he chose a rag from a Gap-worthy stack, dipped it into the left over water in the tub and began to scrub off the ichor.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

It was May 14. In a few days my class back in Jamestown North Dakota would be graduating from high school, and I was in Singapore.

Again, the first line(s) catch us. Who ever we might think Louis L'amour is... we know he isn't what might be thought of as a typical kid from North Dakota. He is an adventurer... and I want to know more.

But instead of jumping immediately into how a boy of 18 happens to have found himself in Singapore... nope.. Louis surprises us again by saying .. "This is not the story of how I came to be in Singapore, that is to be told elsewhere." Instead he talks about books and poetry and learning with such passion and interest you can't help but want to go along.

This is a book with a mission-- It seeks to discuss the possibility that education doesn't happen in schools. Mr. L'amour lays his mission out quickly in the space of a page and by page 5 we are back to being fully immersed in his very interesting life.

So, what do I take away from these opening pages?

Don't be predictable. Don't be boring. Open with a bang, but give them a twist.

Give them more than a pretty face. In this memoir his "character" is a rough and tumble sea-going man... who loves reciting the poetry of Kipling in lumber camps and sailor's bars. He is a character with depth, and we know that right away.

If you have a "message" and you must address it directly get it out of the way and let the narrative do your arguing for you.

Oh, and anyone who is sitting laughing behind your hand at me reading the Louis L'amour memoir... go read it. I don't particularly care for westerns... (I know, I know. He wrote more than just westerns) But this book is beautifully written and so interesting.

**Comments are always welcome! And if you want to participate and examine the first pages of your favorite novel... Hit me up here or on Twitter.**

Monday, October 3, 2011

I am proud to put my boobs on display for such a good cause. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and The Blogger Boobiethon happily put boobs on display to raise money for both Susan G. Komen for the Cure and Blogger's Helping Bloggers-- They have raised over $74K since they started!

So how can you help? Well, you can go the route I did and take a pic( or 5) of your ta-tas and upload it to the site.

Or for a donation of $50 you can go look at all the boobs that have been uploaded. It is a cacophony of boobs! A triumvirate of titties! Big ones. Small ones! I've even heard whispers about MAN tit...

Either way, You help a good cause and where there are boobs there is happiness. So spread the joy! (and no. I will not be playing the "guess which boobs are Lela's game... so there!)